


Same Time Next Month

by AnimationAdventures



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Don't copy to another site, Frenemies, Gen, that armored truck driver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimationAdventures/pseuds/AnimationAdventures
Summary: Remember that armored truck driver named Carl in Daytrip of Doom that the Beagle Boys routinely rob? This is his story.Title is taken from Bouncer's quote to Carl.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Same Time Next Month

Same Time Next Month

Carl Cashrun of Minnefornia was about as average as you could be. He liked the top 40’s on the radio just as much as any other person, got straight B’s in school, and didn’t have any notable quirks like a verbal tic or eating all candy pieces of a certain color in a certain order.

Probably the only thing that could be said about him as an individual was that he did not work in business like the rest of his immediate family. His father, his mother, his brother, and his two sisters all worked in business; his parents headed a growing peanut butter brand, his brother marketed a chain of bikes, and his sisters worked together in the textile industry. They were all reasons why their family was suitably named Cashrun. They helped money flow through the business world.

He personally had no interest in that. Crunching numbers and attending board meetings bored him to sleep. What Carl liked to do was drive and deliver. In his youth, his parents were constantly asking him to fetch something for them or take something to someone. Reflecting on that, he supposed the running around grew into something more. The driving part came later when he was old enough; it gave him an escape from the stiff environment of home.

When his graduation came and he had to look for a job, he found himself interested in helping money flow in another way- namely transporting it from one place to another. His family did not like that at all. Why drive money around when he could be making it come right into his hands? Thankfully, growing up moderately wealthy allowed him to get his own place so he didn’t have to see and hear the judgment.

Once he completed the training required, he officially started driving the armored trucks that collected money. It was a mundane, routine job he enjoyed. All he had to do was drive to a location, collect the money, and then transport it to its next location, rinse and repeat. Traffic wasn’t fun, but at least he was able to listen to top 40’s on the radio to pass time.

He had his first job in his hometown for five years before he was transferred to Duckburg, Calisota. They needed more drivers out there, and he volunteered. Sure, it was way out on the coast, but if it meant getting away from his still sour parents in the Midwest, then he didn’t have any complaints.

On his last day while he was clearing out his locker, a co-worker named James came over to him.

“Hey Carl, be careful out there,” James said as a way of saying good-bye.

“Thanks,” Carl replied, continuing to pack his things into a backpack.

“No, I really mean be careful out there,” he clarified. Carl glanced up at him, needing an explanation. “It’s crazy out there in Calisota, especially in Duckburg and Saint Canard. You’ve heard the stories, right? Insane billionaires, a family gang, high insurance premiums…”

Carl thought back. “I think I remember. Isn’t just one insane billionaire now? That McDuck guy settled into business while that other Glipglop guy still insists on crazy schemes and sharks?”

“You never know when the McDuck guy might spring back.” James countered with a protesting point of his finger. “Still, lots of strange things happen in that area. That’s why they need new drivers out there, because the last drivers couldn’t handle the chaos.”

“Ah,” Carl nodded in realization. “I was wondering why they needed someone from this far away. Thanks for the heads-up, but I think I’ll be fine. According to what I last heard, things have calmed down somewhat.” Putting his last item in his backpack, he zipped it up and shouldered it. “It was nice working with you, James.”

“Same to you. Good luck.”

* * *

Carl’s move out to Calisota was uneventful like the rest of his life so far. He found a cheap yet adequate apartment in Duckburg, and reported to his new job location at the start of the following week after a weekend of getting settled in.

“This will be your truck,” his superior led him to his new vehicle. It looked just like his previous one, but with a different designation. “If you run into any trouble that might seem out of the ordinary, like gigantic beanstalks or robots gone evil attempting to destroy the city, just radio in about the situation and we’ll go from there depending on what the issue is.” They handed him his new keys, and prepared to leave him to his job. They apparently thought of one last thing, turning around to address him. “One more thing- watch out for the Beagle Boys.”

“The Beagle Boys?” Carl repeated, confused.

“A family gang that Duckburg can’t seem to shake. They’ve been causing trouble in this city since way back in the old days when it was still a little village. No matter how many times the police arrest them, they always find a way to either break out of jail or get pardoned, only to commit crimes all over again.”

Carl winced at the description. “Yikes. That sounds awful.”

“It certainly isn’t pleasant,” his boss scoffed. “Just look out for red shirts with a capital ‘B’, green hats, and masks. They always wear those so people know not to mess with them. Now get to work, there’s a lot of money in this city that needs to be transported.”

Carl obeyed as his boss left, and got his truck started.

* * *

At the beginning, Duckburg seemed fairly normal, just like back home. He settled into his routine of driving to a location, loading the money in the truck, driving the money to where it needed to go, and unloading it there. Occasionally, he saw something odd on the local news that was reported to have happened in the city, but didn’t really care since it didn’t cross his personal route. It wasn’t until two months into his new routine that one of the city’s infamous ‘incidents’ happened to affect him. An evil robot disrupted traffic badly and caused destruction pretty close to his truck. Later that evening, he learned on the news that the robot was a creation of McDuck Enterprises’ lead scientist that had turned evil. Again. Then later that same week, the insane billionaire that he learned was actually named Glomgold had some bright idea that involved sharks, four hundred pounds of pudding, and the local cellphone towers. A cellphone tower nearly crushed his truck with him in it and pudding got all over the place.

The city referred to it as ‘The Glompudding Incident’.

After those two mishaps, he knew it was only a matter of time before he met Them.

* * *

The second Tuesday of the month started out normally enough. He had his regular breakfast, walked to work, and began his route. He had just picked up money from a smaller bank in the city and was on his way when a big, hulking figure stepped onto the road and into his path.

Immediately thinking it was a civilian, he pressed hard on the brakes, coming to a stop a mere five feet from the figure. It wasn’t until after he had stopped that he recognized the clothes- red shirt with a ‘B’ on it, green hat, mask around the eyes. A Beagle Boy.

He let out a startled yelp upon hearing his passenger window shatter. Shielding his eyes, he waited a minute to be sure the glass had stopped flying before removing his arm from its protective position. When he opened his eyes again, he saw a skinny arm reach through the broken window, somehow miraculously avoiding the sharp edges, and manually unlock the door from the inside. The door was wrenched open, and there stood two more Beagle Boys.

“Haha! Looks like we got a new guy, boys!” The shortest one chuckled deviously. “Only a new driver would stop for Bouncer.”

“B-Bouncer?” Carl stammered before scrambling to follow protocol, grasping for his radio. “Help! I’m under attack by the Beagle-!”

The shortest Beagle Boy snatched his radio from his hand and crushed it to bits.

“Yep, definitely new,” he snorted, “a seasoned driver would know it’s pointless to call for help when we’re around. Burger, you got the rope?”

The skinny one held up a long coil of rope, answering his brother’s question.

Carl gulped roughly.

In less than five minutes, he was tied up and dragged around the back of the truck, where the biggest Beagle Boy had pulled the backdoors open and was unloading the money.

“You-you can’t do that!” Carl struggled to speak up, his eyes wide with desperation. “Wha-what am I supposed to sa-say to my sup-supervisor?”

“Relax,” the short one he learned was named Big Time waved a dismissive hand, “we’ve been doing this for years. Just tell them the Beagle Boys got you. That’ll be all the explanation you’ll need.”

Each Beagle Boy took a few bags of money, and they began to leave.

“See you next time!” The big one, Bouncer, said as if they had plans to hang out together on the weekend. He kicked Carl down onto his butt next to his truck, and laughed with his brothers as they made their getaway.

Carl spent ten minutes after they left, trying to get himself untied, when the police showed up to help him and escort him back to his job’s office. He did as Big Time suggested, telling his boss the Beagle Boys jumped him, and his job was no longer at risk. The company would pay for the repairs to his truck, and he was given the next day off to process his emotions regarding the robbery.

When he came back, he spent the next couple weeks paranoid of another attack, but eventually calmed down.

One thing was for certain- he never wanted to see the Beagle Boys again.

* * *

On the second Tuesday of the following month, they reappeared.

He was on the same route he had been on that day a month ago, and that made him tense. A practiced driver, he was always vigilant about the road and possible dangers. Even with all his meticulous attention, nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of Big Time being flung at his windshield. He swerved to a hasty stop, thankfully causing no damage due to no vehicles being behind him, and it was Bouncer, who ripped the driver door off its hinges.

“Oh no…” Carl moaned at seeing Bouncer and Burger chortle.

Bouncer grabbed him by his uniform, and yanked him out of his seat, tearing the seatbelt as he did so. Like the previous time, he was tied up and left at the curb while the Beagle Boys walked off with the money he had collected.

“See you at the next robbery!” Bouncer once again cheerfully called over his shoulder.

The police took even longer to reach him that time, probably because he hadn’t had a chance to reach for his radio to call for help.

Two more robberies occurred before they bothered to learn his name.

“Good seeing you, Carl!” Bouncer said as they left.

“Thanks for the money, Carl!” Big Time exclaimed, hefting a bag over his shoulder.

Burger just grunted something Carl was sure sounded like his name.

After that, he completely understood why the previous driver left.

* * *

More months passed and every second Tuesday, without fail, the Beagle Boys showed up to rob his truck. It became routine in a twisted way. He and his company tried to get the police to do something to stop the robberies, but some other case always came up when the time of the month arrived. At some point, he had become resigned to the Beagle Boys appearing at some point on his route, had become used to the feeling of being tied up, and unresisting to being hauled around by the trio.

It actually threw him for a loop when they stopped a robbery to change their plans to something else once.

“Hey, isn’t that the McDuck brats?” Bouncer spoke up as Burger tied Carl up as usual. Carl caught sight of four kids running by, and briefly recalled seeing them on the news the previous day. He closed his eyes, attempting to tune out the robbery.

“Let’s get ‘em!” He heard Big Time declare, followed by the sound of his fist pounding his palm.

Burger grunted negatively behind him.

“Burger’s right. Ma told us we’re supposed to take down the truck,” Bouncer agreed.

Big Time scoffed in his ear. “Forget the truck! That’s the payload! Think big!”

The Beagle Boys quieted for a moment, and he felt Burger release his grip. Two big hands picked him up, and he stared directly at a grinning Bouncer.

“Sorry, Carl. Same time next month?” Bouncer checked.

He knew a robbery was going to happen again somehow, so he settled for a simple nod. Satisfied with his silent reply, Bouncer tossed him in the back of his truck and closed the doors.

He had to mark the calendar when he got back to his apartment. This was the first robbery since meeting the Beagle Boys that he actually had the money at the end of the encounter.

The police showed up thirty minutes later and untied him. Since the truck didn’t have any damage and the money was still there, he was able to continue his route.

When he got back to the company parking lot at the end of the day, some of the other drivers noticed his arrival.

“Hey, Carl!” One driver, a chicken named Clay, jeered at him. “You actually got to finish today? What, were the Beagle Boys out sick?” He and a couple other drivers he was friends with all laughed.

“No,” Carl snapped, heading into the building to change out of his uniform. “They had a change of plans.”

Later that evening, he saw on the news that the Beagle Boys and their mother, Ma Beagle, had been arrested for attempted kidnapping at Funzo’s Fun Zone.

“Huh, so that went badly,” he commented, biting into a slice of pizza. “Knowing them, they’ll probably be back out next month.”

* * *

How right he ended up being. He wouldn’t deny he had a small hope that they’d still be behind bars and he could have a two-month streak of failed robberies, but they still managed to show. They were pretty upset when he spotted them, and he felt it when Burger was tying him up.

“So, how have you been?” Carl wheezed slightly as Burger tightened the ropes a little more than usual. “How’d your last plan work out?”

Big Time let out a huff as he helped Bouncer. “We had them, and then the girl freed them before we could show Ma. She got us all arrested. Took us two and a half weeks to get out.”

“So sorry to hear that,” Carl drawled, not the least bit sincere.

“Aw, shut up!” Big Time spat, gathering up his share of the loot.

“Bye, Carl!” Bouncer said cheerfully. “Same time next month?”

Carl rolled his eyes as Burger set him on the curb. “Probably.”

He wasn’t sure what happened, but their abandonment of robbing his truck to chase the kids from McDuck Manor did something. He and the Beagle Boys seemed a bit chattier with each other after that particular robbery. They talked more instead of him staying silent while they did their thing. It was weird.

At the next robbery, they seemed just as mad.

“Carl,” they huffed in greeting, or grunted in Burger’s case.

“Big Time, Burger, Bouncer,” Carl said in return. He didn’t even bother reaching for his radio, knowing it was pointless. “What’s the matter? Still sore about getting arrested?”

“No,” Big Time pulled him from his seat and held him in place while Burger started with the rope.

Bouncer reached for Carl’s keys so he could open the back of the truck. “We nearly had the McDuck brats last night. The girl and a new friend of hers ruined Ma’s birthday party. Every Beagle Boy gang came together to try and catch them, but they got away.”

Carl nodded his head, now fully understanding their anger. “Ah. Happy birthday to your ma, I guess.”

Burger grunted a thank-you, completing his final knot.

* * *

Life went on. More robberies came and went, and more conversations were had. They all complained about the giant beanstalk Scrooge McDuck and his family summoned, but the Beagle Boys were pretty happy about the money shark that appeared that same night since they were able to snatch a big haul from that. It said something about Carl’s life when he began treating things like giant magical beanstalks and sharks made out of money as normal. During one robbery, Bouncer and Burger told Carl about doing Junior Woodchuck stuff with one of the McDuck kids. Apparently they were fed up with Big Time treating them badly, but the McDuck kids got them to remember how special their brotherhood was.

Carl was as average as could be. He never had stories like the Beagle Boys seemed to have. He didn’t really have anybody in Duckburg like they had each other. His attempts at befriending his fellow armored truck drivers fell flat when most of them treated him as a joke for being the Beagle Boys’ favorite robbery target, and he was never the type to go out on the weekends. If he was being honest, the number of conversations he had with the Beagle Boys and the regular encounters he had with them could probably qualify them as friends.

About a week after the Waddleduck fad, the Beagle Boys robbed his truck again.

“Hi, Carl.” Bouncer greeted with a smile.

“Beagle Boys,” Carl replied, hopping out of the truck and saving them the trouble of yanking him out. Without being instructed, he turned his back to Burger, who got to work subduing him. “Did you hear about the Waddleduck fiasco?”

“Hear about it?” Big Time asked incredulously, throwing his hands up. “That metal fool nearly killed us! We tried to rob a bank and he showed up outta nowhere, using his suit’s fancy gadgets to stop us. Nearly got crushed by rubble, I tell you!”

“At least nobody got hurt,” Carl remarked, recalling the reports he had seen on the news the previous week. Talking to them, he remembered his realization he had during the last robbery. “You know, I’ve known you guys for months and I still haven’t met your ma you sometimes talk about.”

Bouncer unloaded the money from the truck. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s switch things up a little. I see you almost as often as you see those McDuck kids, and you haven’t kidnapped me yet. Don’t you want to show your ma who you’ve been robbing for over a year?”

The three beagles looked at each other in surprise. They hadn’t thought about that.

A grin spread across Big Time’s muzzle. “That is the first time I’ve heard something really smart out of you. Bouncer, you carry him.”

Big Time, Burger, and Bouncer divided the payload between them, and Bouncer grabbed Carl last. As he was carried off, Carl silently admitted to himself that it was an appreciated change of pace compared to being left with the truck for who knows how long until the police came to untie him.

The walk back to the Beagles’ junkyard was tedious, but he found it interesting to be brought to the place where his robbers lived. They brought him to a trailer house in the junkyard, and Burger kicked the door open for them.

“Ma, we got this month’s robbery!” Big Time announced like someone had just gotten the newest issue of their monthly magazine.

“And we brought home a hostage!” Bouncer added, dropping Carl to the floor along with the bags of money.

An older, female beagle shushed them as she watched the old TV in front of her intently. “Pipe down, I want to see how this crime plays out.” Five minutes later, the program came to an end, and she rose from her chair to greet her children. She first praised them for successfully stealing the money, and then she stared at him. “So, you’re the new driver? Thought you would’ve bailed faster than the last one did.”

“I like my job,” Carl replied defensively. “And someone has to transport the money in this city. Can’t exactly do that if every driver who gets my route quits on account of your family. At least this way, only one person is dealing with your family’s mayhem instead of multiple.”

“Fair point,” Ma Beagle conceded. She sauntered over to her small kitchen area and started rummaging through her things. “Tea and biscuits?”

“Am I going to be tied up the whole time?” Carl asked.

“Eh, one of the boys will help you. Now, tea and biscuits?”

“Not really a tea person, but sure.”

And that was how he had tea as a hostage with Ma Beagle. After two hours of chatter and Burger helping him eat his biscuits and drink his tea, he was asked to leave. The three Beagle Boys he knew escorted him to the junkyard’s entrance and untied him. With a few hours left before sundown, Carl figured it would be best to walk back to his employer. He got a little turned around because he was unfamiliar with the junkyard’s location within the city, and it took him nearly an hour to get back.

“Hey, it’s Carl!” Clay pointed out upon his arrival, his friends’ heads following his finger’s direction. “Where have you been? The police stopped by to tell the boss your truck was empty when they got there.”

“The Beagle Boys kidnapped me this time,” Carl said, exhausted from the walk. “Had to walk from the junkyard. Couldn’t catch a bus.” Without waiting for further replies, he went in to talk with his supervisor. He was very understanding of Carl being kidnapped, and let Carl have the next day off.

* * *

Life went on as normal as it could in Duckburg. In the following months, harpies appeared and stole stuff. One of the McDuck kids started a short-lived harp wrangling business that somehow shifted into the harpies being hired to deliver McDuck Enterprises’ new line of lemonade. He bought a six-pack on release. During one of the Beagle Boys’ robberies, they mentioned the McDuck kids and Scrooge himself trespassing in the junkyard for some lamp that didn’t have a genie inside it.

At some point, it was in the news that Della Duck, Scrooge’s niece that had been stated to be lost among the stars, had returned after a decade of missing in action. Not long after that, the Beagle Boys ditched their monthly robbery for the second time to do something about the anniversary of Fort Duckburg and its rescue by McDuck ancestor Cornelius Coot. As it would be later revealed, Coot had fooled the Beagle Boys of that time period into thinking he had an army by heating up his supply of corn into popcorn to mimic gunfire. The Beagle Boys and their mother were pretty upset about the McDuck clan ruining their plans again. Though they weren’t upset enough to not kidnap him for a visit to their junkyard.

At their next robbery, he was told about sharing their money with Glomgold to help him win the bet against Scrooge that had been covered in the media, and how one of the kids managed to outcon everyone. He didn’t blink an eye at the thought of a kid running the newly expanded McDuck Enterprises. Weirder things happened in Duckburg.

Carl watched alien invasion movies when he grew up, and considering how much of a magnet for trouble the city was, it was only a matter of time before it experienced a true alien invasion. He had been in the middle of a routine kidnapping by/visit with the Beagle Boys when the chaos started. Before he could begin to process what was happening, Bouncer had snatched his tied up body and ran from the truck with as much money as he could carry. Throughout the whole invasion, he had been the Beagle Boys’ hostage, and witnessed them robbing abandoned storefronts. In a strange way, it felt nice to be part of their stockpile when they returned to the junkyard to defend their home.

Within two years of Carl Cashrun’s transfer to Duckburg, his life got as far beyond average as it could. Week after week, he got caught up in robots turning evil, crazy billionaire schemes, real superheroes defending the city from supervillains like that one who was obsessed with the weather, and so many other events that other cities would consider bizarre. He was the victim of robbery every month like he lived in some sort of cartoon, and every so often, he’d even be kidnapped by the local gang for a nice chat over tea and biscuits.

Volunteering for that transfer was probably the best choice he ever made.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I just wrote. I just wanted to explore how the Beagle Boys are so familiar with Carl that they know him by name. This doesn't really matter, but if anyone has any idea what bird Carl is, feel free to let me know. Also, I have no idea what armored truck drivers actually do, so I wrote this based on my guess at how that all works. 
> 
> If the series takes place in Calisota, then Minnefornia is its sister state.


End file.
